Home
by DarkestSight
Summary: Tea and sympathy the morning after the events of episode 2x13.


_A.N.: Tissue warning!_

 **Home**

 **By DarkestSight**

Four am ship's time and the Waverider was in standby mode as it drifted aimlessly through the temporal zone. Inside the ship, the lights were dim, reduced to low levels while the crew slept safely tucked away in their beds, or at least, that's where they were supposed to be. Sara Lance was wide awake and wandering through the ship's corridors. She'd woken up moments before and had found too many restless thoughts running through her head to let her fall back asleep, the events of the previous day playing over and over again. The vague idea of getting something to eat had gotten her up and sent her in the direction of the galley.

As she neared the place, the sounds of cupboards being opened and things rattling about alerted her to the fact the room was already occupied. She wondered who else could be up so early. The team were not ones to keep regular hours so it wasn't too unusual to find someone up at this time of night, or morning depending on your point of view, but when she entered, the sight she saw still surprised her. Despite what had occurred the day before, it seemed the reality of it had yet to sink in.

It was Rip.

Sara stood in the doorway staring at him.

Normally so immaculate, he currently looked more than a little dishevelled. He was wearing his sleepwear, a gray T-shirt and black sweatpants, both rumpled and worn, and his hair was in disarray as if he too had just woken up from sleep. He stood with his back towards her as he rifled through the galley's cupboards searching for something.

Sara just stayed there watching him, taking a moment to enjoy the simple fact he was there, really there, back on the ship where he belonged after being gone for so long. After all the trials and tribulations they'd gone through to bring him home, Rip Hunter was finally and truly back among them.

A smile played on her face as she finally stepped into the room. "Late night snack or early breakfast?" she asked.

Rip spun around sharply, and for a moment, Sara thought she saw a flash of fear in his eyes before it was hidden away.

"Uh, breakfast?" he said pushing the shaggy fringe off his forehead as if trying to restore his hair to some sort of order. Turning back to the cupboards, he added, "It may be early but I'm not really planning on getting anymore sleep tonight."

"Yeah," said Sara as she walked over to him. "Me neither."

Once she was closer, she was able to see just how pale he was, but then he'd seemed overly pale ever since he'd been brought back to himself. It made the fading marks on his face from his accident in medieval England stand out even more. It also emphasized the current redness around his eyes.

"Nightmares?" she asked wondering if maybe she was crossing a line she shouldn't cross.

Rip froze, arm still halfway inside a cupboard. Letting out a deep breath, he closed his eyes and nodded briefly before resuming his search.

Sara didn't pursue the matter further. Of course, he would be having nightmares after everything he'd been through. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. She wasn't going to push him.

"What are you looking for anyway?" she asked instead.

"Tea," he said. He pushed aside a jar of cinnamon to see what was behind it. "All I want is a cup of tea but everything's been moved about and I don't know where anything is anymore." Frustration tinged his words as he said the last.

Sara gazed at the cupboards trying to remember when things had changed. "I guess we moved a few things around when Nate and Amaya joined us," she said as the memory came back to her. "There was some stuff they wanted which we didn't have and we had to make room for it. I think Ray took the opportunity to reorganize a few things."

"Right," Rip said quietly. Giving up on the spices, he opened another cupboard and sighed when he saw it was full of canned pasta.

"Here." Sara went to a cupboard further along and opened it. "We keep all the tea and coffee stuff here now." Reaching deep inside, she pulled out the tin she knew Rip had been looking for. Rip occasionally drank coffee too but Sara knew tea was his comfort drink and this particular tin contained his special blend, the one usually only he drank. It had been sitting in the back of the cupboard virtually forgotten since he'd left.

Rip's fingers wrapped around the tin almost reverently as he took it from her. "Thanks," he said.

Sara smiled back and then began pulling more things out: a teapot, a small teaspoon, sugar, milk, Rip's favourite mug. Nate had tried to use the mug once shortly after he'd joined the team and Sara had nearly bitten his head off. The whole team had made sure to avoid it ever since.

When all the things were finally laid out on the counter, Sara stepped back so Rip could get to work. He immediately set to it going through the motions as if he'd never been away. It was a routine Sara had seen him perform countless times before and only now did she realize how much she'd missed it. One of the conveniences of the Waverider's futuristic kitchen was near instant boiling water and as soon as it was ready, Rip used it to rinse the teapot warming up the pot. He then proceeded to take the lid off the tin of tea and using the teaspoon, dug out a heaping spoonful. As he did so, Sara noticed for the first time that his hands were shaking. Inevitably, some of the loose tea didn't make it into the pot instead spilling out over the counter.

"Bollocks," Rip cursed. He swept the tea off the surface into his hand and dumped it down the refuse chute. "Sorry."

Sara frowned. It took her a moment to realize he was actually apologizing for losing his temper. Something Rip would have rarely done before. "It's fine," she said.

Rip nodded and went back to his tea making.

The frown stayed on Sara's face as she continued to watch. Rip was Rip once more, but at the same time, he wasn't. He was much more subdued and submissive, wary of doing the wrong thing, his confidence badly shaken. He was also, unsurprisingly, more than a little shell shocked.

He just needed some time, Sara told herself.

Once the tea was brewing, Rip glanced momentarily at her but then his eyes darted away and he stood there wringing his hands as if uncertain what to say.

"You should eat something," Sara said. Going over to another cupboard, she pulled out a box of cereal; then grabbed a couple of bowls and spoons, and poured the cereal out. This was about the best she could manage in terms of breakfast. Cooking wasn't her strong suit. "Here," she said as she pushed a bowl towards Rip.

Rip just stared at it.

"Eat," Sara insisted. "You can't live on tea alone. You're much too skinny as it is."

Rip let out a snort, bitter and filled with dark humour. He took the bowl but he just stirred it with the spoon making no attempt to eat it.

Folding her arms across her chest, Sara raised her eyebrows giving him an admonishing look. "Do I have to force feed you? Because you know I will."

"Sorry," Rip said again.

Sara grimaced. "And stop apologizing."

Rip winced but he finally began to eat taking a spoonful of cereal and chewing it slowly and mechanically.

"Good boy," Sara said nodding.

Rip gave her a look, a fleeting expression of exasperation, but it was so wonderfully familiar, Sara couldn't help smiling. It was good to know the old Rip was still inside there somewhere.

After a few spoonfuls, Rip put his cereal down and went to pour his tea. Unfortunately, his hands were still unsteady and some splashed onto the counter before he'd even filled the mug halfway.

"Shit," Rip exclaimed. He put the teapot down and leaned against the counter, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Rip?" said Sara, reaching out to him but holding back just short of touching him.

"I'm fine," Rip ground out through gritted teeth.

Sara sighed and let her hand fall back to her side. "No, you're not."

Rip sighed too, deeply and wearily. "No, I'm not," he admitted. "I'm sorry, Sara."

Sara opened her mouth to protest but he put up a hand stopping her.

"I know you're tired of me saying it," Rip said. "But I am sorry and not just for what I did to the team, to you. I might not have been in control when I did it but I still remember doing it. Every time I look at you I remember what it felt like, your neck in my hand as it broke, as I broke it." His voice cracked as he said the last. Clearing his throat, he looked away.

"Rip." Sara took a step towards him but he moved away.

"And I'm also sorry about this." He gestured at himself. "For being such a godawful mess. I know this isn't what you hoped for when you rescued me."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Sara said vehemently, putting all of her conviction into her words, "especially for being a bit of a mess. After what you've been through, you have every right to be just as big a fucking mess as you can possibly be."

Rip gave a chuckle but there wasn't even a hint of humour in it. "You don't understand. What I said before when we were trapped in my mind is still true. I don't know who I am anymore. I used to be a Time Master once, you know, back when that actually meant something. I used to be a husband and a father too and I'm never ever going to get that back." He paused and took a shaky breath. "Even after I lost all that, I was still Captain of the Waverider but now..." He shook his head. "There are other parts of me now, parts that are a film student from Hollywood, parts that are some loathsome, unfeeling demon, parts that are a terrified, tormented amnesiac, and I'm having difficulty figuring out what is really me and what is even real. I don't know if I even belong here anymore."

"Of course, you belong here," Sara protested trying to reassure him. "This is your home. The Waverider's been your home since long before any of us came along."

Rip gazed at her, the sadness in his eyes so intense Sara felt her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. "Yes, but you don't actually need me here," he said.

"What?" said Sara. "What are you talking about? Of course, we need you."

Rip shook his head. "You don't. You've already got the information you needed about the spear and you certainly don't need me as part of the team. From what I've heard, you've been accomplishing your missions just fine without me. You're obviously an excellent captain. You don't need me for that. Jax is a first class engineer who can look after the Waverider just as well as I can. You've even got Dr. Heywood now for historical expertise. What the hell do you need a broken ex-Time Master for?" he demanded bitterly, throwing his hands up into the air.

Sara had been watching Rip's hands as he spoke. Rip had long elegant fingers, musicians fingers, light and expressive. Right now they were even more restless than usual, constantly moving. When they weren't gesturing to emphasize something Rip said, they were tapping or rubbing against his arms, his thighs, his head, the back of his neck. The rare moments they were still they were clenched so tightly his knuckles shone white.

Taking advantage of a moment of stillness, Sara reached out and grabbed a hold of his arms putting an end to the constant fidgeting. Rip flinched but he didn't pull away. He just stared at her warily with those broken eyes of his.

"Listen to me," she said. "We still need you. I still need you. I didn't jump into that head of yours just to find out the location of the last piece of the spear, you know. I did it to get you back."

Rip hung his head not saying anything.

Keeping a hold of Rip's arms, Sara took a deep breath and continued, "You may not think so but you do have a place here. You're invaluable on a mission and in a fight. You have more time travel experience than any of us combined, and after all your time on this ship, no one can pilot the Waverider like you can. You hear me? I may be a good captain but I'd be an even greater one with you at my side."

Suddenly, she let out a chuckle, her lips spreading into a wide grin. It was so unexpected it made Rip look up, his eyes widening with surprise.

"And you know what," she said. "None of that even matters. It doesn't matter if we need you or not. You're one of us. You're family and no way in hell are we letting you go again."

Rip's face began to crumple, mouth turning downward, eyes glistening though it was obvious he was trying hard to hold it back.

Sara felt a lump in her throat and she swallowed. She'd been trying to keep things professional ever since Rip had returned. She'd been trying so damn hard to maintain her distance and keep things professional because that was what she thought Rip wanted and because she was afraid of what would happen if she didn't. Rip seemed so fragile she was afraid he might shatter if she got too close, if she tried to offer too much comfort, and that she would shatter along with him.

Well, she decided, Rip might want things professional but it wasn't what he needed and it wasn't what she needed either.

Taking a step closer, Sara wrapped her arms around Rip and pulled him into a hug. She felt his body stiffen but she didn't let go.

"We'll help you figure this out," she said as she held him. "It's not going to be easy but between all of us we've got a lot of experience with being broken and messed up so we'll figure this out. We'll help you find out who you are and what your place is here. I promise."

Slowly, Rip began to relax, almost sagging into her embrace as she spoke, his arms wrapping around her until he was clinging to her just as tightly as she was clinging to him.

"You're home now and you're not going anywhere," she said as Rip's body began to shake and the quiet sobs started. "I promise," she repeated softly, her own tears trailing down her face.


End file.
